Harder Than You Know
by calhoun91
Summary: He felt like his life was a craptastic version of a soap opera his grandmother watched. He just wanted to love a girl that could love him back completely. Was that too much to ask?
1. Chapter 1

Hello! After writing the Samchel/EvanBerry two-shot I decided that I really wanted to try my hand at writing a multi-chap fic for them. It might crash and burn, but that's fine with me. :P

The story is very AU. This first chapter is more of a set-up to get everyone understanding what the major storyline is going to be. I don't know if there has been a story like this written before; if there has then I apologize for the unoriginal concept.

Review if you'd be interested in this being continued! :D

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

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><p>He was careful to not stretch the moment after his eyelids fluttered open. He knew that any sudden movement might cause the girl in his arms to wake up, something he didn't want to happen yet. Brown locks immediately clouded his vision. The brunette's head was resting lightly on his bare chest, her arm draped across his abdomen. He felt happiness rush through his veins at the prospect of being the guy who was getting to hold her. Their moments together were few and far between causing him to truly treasure the time they had alone.<p>

"Good morning," her husky voice, laced with sleep, whispered before pressing a chaste kiss to the skin below his jaw. He ignored the rush of sadness he felt knowing that their time together was about to end. Instead of bringing down the atmosphere, he growled playfully before pecking the top of her head. "Did you sleep well?"

"Always when I'm holding you," he responded. The brunette finally pulled out of his arms and sat back on the bed to look at Sam with sad eyes. "I wish we could fall asleep together every night," he whispered sadly before reaching out to trace the line of her jaw. Rachel sighed before pulling away, taking the sheet with her. He resisted the urge to cover himself up, knowing that it was just Rachel-the girl who had seem him naked _plenty _of times.

"You know that I'm doing the best that I can, Sam," Rachel called out to him. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. They had, on more than one occasion, had that exact same conversation. It only led to his heart being torn apart and Rachel in tears. He'd rather have his arm cut off than have to be the cause of Rachel's tears.

"Last night was awesome though, right?" He asked, hoping that he didn't sound too incredibly insecure. Sometimes he just wanted reassurance that the girl he was head over heels in love with still felt the same about him. "You had a good time?" The brunette turned around with a smirk in place before making her way back over to the bed.

"A very good time," she whispered before straddling his waist and connecting their lips. He ignored the fact that he probably had morning breath and deepened the kiss, moaning when tongue met tongue. Almost immediately the kiss slowed down and turned into something else. For Rachel it was her way of showing Sam that she was on the same playing field as he. Sam pulled away sheepishly when he felt a stirring in his nether regions and was certain his arousal was going to begin showing. "We have time for another round," Rachel whispered upon realizing why Sam had abruptly ended the kiss. A cell phone ringing brought Sam out of his Rachel-induced high. He reached for the girl's iPhone before looking at the missed call.

"No we don't," Sam whispered before handing the phone to Rachel. "I'm going to go take a shower," he added with finality, ignoring the pained looked on the brunette's face. He didn't stick around to see her look at her own phone with a broken expression.

He made sure that he locked the door behind him so that Rachel would know he wasn't in the mood for conserving water. If anything he thought the shower was a pretty manly place to cry. It wasn't like crying in the middle of the streets where everyone who passed by would think he was insane and call the cops. He could just be alone with shampoo and a toilet bowl. It was everything a guy wanted around when crying. And he kind of felt like crying.

He ignored the stupid inner monologue his brain was having and instead turned the shower on, letting the water get scalding before stepping inside. The hot water eased some of the tension out of his muscles and relaxed him, somewhat sending all of his worries away. He grabbed the small bar of soap the hotel had provided and lathered himself down, scrubbing away all of the remnants of Rachel. He then moved on to his hair. He reached for the miniature shampoo bottle and gave it a quick sniff, grimacing at the smell. He had yet to find a hotel that provided shampoo that didn't smell like old people. He proceeded to wash his hair anyway all while deciding a haircut was in order. His hair had already grown out past his Justin Beiber type locks and was making its way on to borderline hippie.

Rachel had yet to comment on it. She probably didn't even notice.

He let his head rest against the shower wall upon thinking of Rachel. How had everything gotten so messed up?

He brushed the metaphorical chip from his shoulder away and turned the shower water off. He grabbed the towel from the sink and wrapped it around his waist before looking into the fogged mirror. "It'll work itself out, Dude," he told the blobbed reflection of himself.

He opened the bathroom door and made his way back into the room to find Rachel seated on the bed, legs crossed and eyes puffy. "What's wrong?" He asked, voice steady to mask the concern he truly felt. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she snapped before turning to face the window on the opposite side of the room. He chuckled, clearly able to see through her lies but let the subject drop. He made his way over to the other side of the room where his previous night's clothing had been thrown. He pulled the frayed jeans on before grabbing the flannel shirt and buttoning it. "I'm sorry that this is hard for you, Sam," Rachel explained from the bed. He chose not to comment. "What do you want me to do?"

"You know what I want you to do," he replied before turning around slowly. He made sure to not make eye contact with her and instead looked for his shoes. "Do you know where my shoes are?" He was met with silence.

He knew he was acting immature, but he was only 23. That kind of meant he could still act childish sometimes. Well, he thought it made sense anyway.

"I can't do that yet, Sam." He knew that. She always said that. "You told me that you understood." He sighed before looking at the girl.

"I do understand, Rachel. I knew what I was getting into when things started." Rachel nodded. "It still hurts me though." He spotted his tennis shoes lying under the top Rachel had been wearing the day before. He shook images of the things they had done the previous night away and instead began to ease the shoes on.

"Sam, please don't go yet. We never spend any time together. I don't have anywhere to be until noon. We could get breakfast together." Sam scoffed.

"You mean we could be served breakfast by the hotel people," he corrected. Rachel bit her lip. "I need to go anyway. I think I'm going to get a hair appointment or something." Rachel looked him over.

"Your hair is really long," she agreed. He knew she hadn't noticed it. How could she notice anything when all she was worried about was keeping up appearances? "Will you call me later?" She questioned once she realized he really wasn't going to stay. He was ready to say no, even though spending time away from her was going to be the death of him. He really was going to tell her that she needed to focus on other things, like _him_, he thought with disgust.

But that didn't work out.

"Yeah, I'll call you." He walked over to her and simply looked her over. She was truly beautiful. He had always been amazed by the beauty she radiated. He felt pride swell up within him at knowing that Rachel was his, somewhat anyway. He ran his fingers over her face and then down her neck while admiring the marks he left on her body. Sam was aware that it was against the rules to leave the purple bruises on her, but sometimes he got a little too carried away. "I love you, Rachel," he whispered before pressing his lips against hers. He pulled away before she was able to deepen it. "I don't think I'll ever love anyone as much as I love you."

"Sam," she whispered as a lone tear fell down her face. He kissed the tear away before pressing various kisses against her face, and finally meeting her lips. "I. Love. _You_," Rachel whispered in between kisses. He grinned before reluctantly pulling away and making his way towards the door.

"Tell your husband that his piano is ready at the shop," he stated while leaning his head against the door. Before Rachel could reply he was out the door and walking down the hallway. He was going back to the real world. The world where he was just a guy that worked at a music store. The world where Rachel St. James was one half of a powerful Broadway couple.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry it's taken a while to update. School is kickbutt. My roommate went home for the weekend and I'm by myself in the dorm so I decided to crank this out. I hope it doesn't suck. :P

Anyway, thank you for the reviews and alerts. Definitely appreciate it!

**Disclaimer: Don't own Glee. Mistakes I do own!**

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><p>He thought that by walking back to his apartment a chance to clear his mind would be given to him. He was entirely too full of the emotions swirling deep within him, all of them threatening to spill over to the surface at any given time. Fifteen minutes away from the broken down building he called home, a loud boom of thunder clapped overhead. Within minutes of the warning from the skies above a rain, so chilling it pierced his skin, fell angrily. He thought it was kind of ironic; his day had been going downhill since Rachel had received her phone call from Jesse. He figured the rain was kind of symbolic or something. He probably deserved the downpour on him for what he was helping Rachel to do her husband.<p>

Upon reaching his apartment building he flew inside to escape the downpour of the rain and hopefully his guilt. He trudged up the first two flights of stairs before coming to a halt outside of his door. He pulled the lone keychain out of his pocket and turned the lock before entering the small flat. He angrily dropped his keys and cell phone onto the small island that served as his breakfast table before walking a few mere feet into his bedroom/bathroom/everything because he was too poor to afford an apartment that actually had more than one room. He peeled the soaking wet clothes off his body before changing into warm pajamas and crashing onto the bed.

He kind of prayed that he wouldn't wake up.

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><p>Four hours later he heard a loud noise coming from the other side of the room. His drowsy eyes opened, and once coherent thoughts were formed he realized it was his cell phone. With a grunt he pulled himself out of the bed and lumbered over to the kitchen to grab his phone. "Someone seems popular," he mumbled upon seeing the three missed calls and five text messages.<p>

**Rach: **You didn't call me.  
>11:43<br>**Rach: **Are you mad? I have a break; do I need to come by?  
>12:01<br>**Rach: **Sam, please say something…Last night was incredible; don't ruin it.  
>12:08<br>**Lopezzz: **Trouty Mouth, I wants some food. We should go to Puckerman's gig later 2nite so we can score free drinks…and chicks ;)  
>12:32<br>**Rach: **Okay. I'm coming over.  
>12:42.<p>

With a frantic yelp he looked at his watch. _1:05._ He hoped that Rachel decided against her initial thoughts. He could text her back and just tell her he was asleep and that would solve it all. He didn't want to text her back though. He was hurting, and though he knew it wasn't fair of him to blame her, a part of him wanted to-and did.

**Me:** Sounds like a plan! Meet me there? Or pick u up?  
>1:08<p>

A lone knock on his door caused him to drop his phone. The solo knock then turned into a series of beating and pounding on his door. He chuckled at the brunette's impatience and jogged over, not wanting to have to pay his landlord for damage to the door.

He pulled the door open and took her disheveled appearance. Her hair was a mess. He still hadn't really figured out girls, but he knew that her hair was looking kind of whacked up. She was slightly panting and flushed. He noticed that she wasn't looking directly at him, more at his chest. He looked down to realize he still had on a pair of boxers and nothing else. "Sorry," he mumbled, "I just woke up." Her face lit up.

"So you weren't ignoring me," she stated, though it came out as more of a question than anything. He sighed before pulling her inside the apartment.

"Come in, you don't want anyone to see you over here," he whispered before shutting the door behind her. The jab at his heart was as strong as it ever was at the prospect of sneaking around. He guessed it was what he got for falling in love with Broadway's most talented woman. He was proud of her; he always had been, but it sucked that there was always someone on the street that knew her. They could never just…be.

Not that they could have even if she weren't famous. Her husband was just as famous as she. If for some odd reason someone didn't recognize her for her own fame they recognized her as Rachel St. James, or Jesse St. James' wife.

"Where are you at?" Rachel's voice was soft and gentle, almost like she was afraid of spooking him. Maybe she was.

"Nowhere, just thinking," he replied and then forced a smile. Rachel sighed. He forgot that she could read him like a book. "Rachel, you don't want to hear what I have to say so let's just not talk about it, okay?" She gave him a watery smile before sitting down on the couch, picking up his cell phone in the process. He slowly made his way over to the brunette before easing himself down beside her.

"We need to be mature adults, Sam. Be honest with me, please," she pleaded. He ran a hand through his locks before nodding to himself.

"Fine, you want honest? I can give you that. I'm _dying_ here, Rach. I love you so much that it hurts. I can't go anywhere without seeing your face in a magazine or hearing some little girl with her mom in our shop talking about wanting to be just like you when they grow up. I want to be able to smile and tell them that you're my girlfriend, and that you are the most amazing thing in the world."

"Sam," Rachel interrupted. He could tell from the sound of her voice that she was crying, but he wasn't going to let that stop him from continuing his rant.

"But I can't," he finished. His voice cracked and he found himself crying silently along with her. "You know, it isn't fair that I'm so crazy about you. I want to be able to buy you flowers before your shows, and be waiting for you when they are done with a kiss. I want to be able to walk down the street with you while holding your hand, but I can't." A piercing silence followed his confessions. "And I don't think I ever will."

"Are you breaking up with me?" Rachel questioned. He wanted to laugh because _how _could he break up with someone he wasn't truly with.

"I can't," he cried out with frustration, "because as much as it's killing me to have you like this? At least even though I know you go home to his arms and a life where you belong to him I have these small moments. They're all I've got."

She hungrily attached her lips to his and all was forgiven in that moment. He didn't have time to feel pain; her kisses and touches were the only things to heal his wounds. She treaded her fingers lightly through his hair before pushing him down on the couch. The kisses lessened in intensity; she instead ended the series of kisses with a soft peck before pressing a solitary kiss to his neck and then over his chest, where his heart lay beneath.

"I love you, Sam. You have to know that I do. Please, I couldn't bear the thought of living a life without you in it." He sighed. They had been friends for longer than they had been having a secret affair and he knew it would be impossible to lead a life without Rachel Berry, no, Rachel St. James in it.

"And what if I couldn't handle being with you while Jesse was in the picture?" The sharp intake of breath from Rachel let him know all he needed to know. As much as she loved him, she wasn't leaving Jesse-that much was clear.

"I can't leave him now," she explained. "He just got the lead in an upcoming musical. The previews start in July. He has the entire theatre community watching him." Sam nodded. His phone chirped from the spot it was in beside Rachel. The brunette reached for the item blindly before reading over whatever it was he received. He ignored the pained expression on her face before handing the phone over.

**Lopezzz: **It's bouts time we got you laid, Evans! You been single too longz! Ill come to your apt. at 6.  
>1:34<p>

"You're going out with Santana tonight?" Rachel whispered while looking at the floor. Sam nodded but realized she kind of couldn't see him.

"Yeah, we haven't hung out in a while. I miss my best friend." He heard barely audible sniffles. "What's wrong?" He questioned before wrapping his arms around the brunette.

"I thought I was your best friend." He couldn't help it. He really he couldn't. But the laughter that escaped him made the brunette seethe. The tips of her ears grew red. "Oh okay, excuse me for thinking that the guy I give myself to and am in love with is my best friend. Clearly that isn't how it works."

"Baby," Sam cooed before pressing a soft kiss to the spot beneath her ear, "you are more than my best friend." She turned to face him. "You're my **best friend,**" he pressed a kiss to her cheek, "my lover," he pressed another kiss to her nose, "and the girl I happen to want to spend forever with." He pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of her lips before pulling away with a goofy grin. He was happy to find that Rachel was wearing a grin that matched his.

"You will, you know," Rachel stated before curling into his side.

"Will what?" He questioned in confusion.

"Get to spend forever with me." She pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. He tightened his hold on her and smiled. It was the small moments that made all the shit they had to go through worthwhile. "Are you really going to let Santana hook you up with a girl?" Sam fought the urge to laugh knowing it would give her the wrong idea-again.

"I already have a girl, and she's better than anybody Santana might think is game to handle Sam Evans!" Rachel smiled at the excitement in his voice. "When is your break over?" Rachel stiffened in his arms.

"I might have lied. I feigned an illness so that I could take the rest of the day off," she explained.

"Naughty girl," Sam cooed before bursting out into laughter. "I can't pull off creepy old pervert, huh?" Rachel arched an eyebrow.

"Sam, you may not be a creepy old man, but you are a pervert." He flushed before shrugging his shoulders.

"I blame you," he explained. "Does he know you aren't working?" He tried avoiding Jesse's name as often as he could. He knew it was stupid to try to imagine Jesse not being in the picture, especially since he was the one helping Rachel be a cheat.

"No, I wanted to spend more time with you. I told you that this morning before you stormed out on me." Sam sighed."I can go if you want…" He knew it was a trap. That girl was a wizard of tricking him, but he was finally wising up to the ways of Rachel Berry.

"Do you remember the day we met?" Rachel giggled with glee before turning to look at Sam intently, the memory replaying itself in both of their minds.

_He sighed before wiping the counter off with a tattered cloth. Business had been slow that day; it always was when he worked. It wasn't fun being a college freshman having to work hours that should be spent on partying or less important things like studying._

"_How can I help you?" He recited once the door opened and dinged, signaling a customer. _

"_You can't," a melodic voice replied. His ears perked at the sound as he raised his head from the counter to see a petite brunette girl rummaging through the sheet music on aisle three. _

"_You sure about that, Miss?" Sam questioned politely all the while being enamored by the girl. She had an attitude, that much was obvious, but she was pretty in his eyes._

"_I'm positive," she replied. He nodded to himself before continuing to wipe down the counter. Several minutes later he heard footsteps nearing him. A small cough was emitted from before him. He looked up with an arched eyebrow to look at the girl. _

"_Yes?"_

"_I'm afraid I do need your help. You see, the book I want to look at is on the top shelf and I'm unable to reach it." Sam nodded before wiping his hands off on his blue jeans and walked over to where the brunette had previously been standing. "That one," Rachel pointed._

_Sam grabbed the book of sheet music with ease before handing it to the girl and returning to his original spot behind the counter. "You look familiar-do I know you?"_

"_Is that a pick-up line?" Sam smirked. "'Cause I'll gladly play along." The brunette scoffed but he could see the faint blush gracing her cheeks._

"_I'm being serious," she exclaimed while stomping her foot. He laughed before truly studying her features. Soft chocolate eyes to match long brown locks, a dazzling smile to go along with the package._

"_You do look kinda familiar. Do you go to Pete's down on 57__th__?" Rachel's face scrunched up in thought. He thought it was kind of adorable, but 18-almost 19- year old dudes didn't think girls were adorable. They were either smokin' or not._

"_No, I've never been." He hummed in thought. _

"_Our band plays there. I thought you might have gone. Where do you go to school?" Rachel placed the book on the counter before brushing a lone curl away from her face._

"_Tisch, you?"_

"_Oh, uh, I go to Essex-in Jersey." Rachel shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe you just look like someone I know," he finished lamely. "I'm about to get off work, do you maybe want to go get something to eat?" He knew he was going to be shot down, but it didn't hurt to try._

"_I can't. I have somewhere to be." Yep, he felt like a loser. "But maybe I will go watch your band play sometime," she questioned with a grin._

"_Yeah, that'd be awesome. Every Saturday night, usually. Around nine. You should totally come. It'd be fun." The brunette handed him the book. "Oh, no, it's on me."_

"_Are you sure?" She asked with a glint in her eyes he couldn't read._

"_Positive." She smiled before grabbing the book and skipping out of the store._

_It was only until after she had left that he realized he didn't know her name._

"You were kind of mean," Sam whispered once the flashback had passed. "You came to every show our band had though." Rachel nodded into his chest. Somehow during the random memory they had gone from sitting to lying down. Her head was resting on his shirtless chest while his strong arms were wrapped protectively around her.

"You intrigued me. And then you were just really nice eye-candy at those shows. A man with a guitar was my weakness back then," she sighed dreamily. Sam chuckled, the laughter sending vibrations through the brunette.

"Rach," he whispered while running his hands over her back soothingly.

"Hmm?"

"Why did you pick him?" Sam questioned. He and Rachel had never talked about her feelings for Jesse aside from the diva reassuring the blond that her feelings were only for him. Sam couldn't say that he truly believed her; Jesse was her husband after all-she was bound to feel something for him. "Why wasn't I good enough?"

"Sam," Rachel pulled away so that she could look into his eyes. "You act as though you were an option. You not once showed any interest in me. Why would I have thrown myself at you when I had a guy who showed affection for me?" Sam sighed.

He and Rachel had been friends for almost four years, he guessed. He had had feelings of the love variety for probably three of those years. She had been married to Jesse for two of those. It killed him that he had been there first. He had been in Rachel's life before Jesse St. James and had he shown the girl how he truly felt he could probably had been the one married to Rachel.

Then again, Rachel truly had been in love with Jesse, he thought. He knew he was being a great friend by watching her fall in love with someone else-because when the person you loved happened to love someone else it was common sense to let them go, even if it hurt like hell.

He had never tried to make her fall for him after things had become serious with Jesse. He had been everything a platonic friend would be. He listened to her talk about him for hours on end all while his heart felt like it was being stomped on. He ate ice cream with her and watched Funny Girl when she and Jesse would get into fights.

He was there when Rachel got her first off-off Broadway part. He was there when she got her first off-Broadway role. He was even there when she went to an open-call for her first Broadway show. He was the first person Rachel called when she got engaged after Jesse landed his first part on an off-Broadway show.

He remembered the first night he and Rachel kissed. He had gotten a girlfriend-the first one he had since being friends with Rachel, actually. He spent more and more time away from Rachel, certain that it was what he needed to do to make Rachel happy and to finally help him get over the brunette.

How wrong he was.

She and Jesse had been married a year at the time. The curly haired prick was out of town visiting his family, and Rachel had called Sam to keep her company. He declined, having already made plans with Santana Lopez. Rachel began to cry-Sam caved and took a taxi to her apartment immediately.

He often wondered what life would be like for him if that night had turned out another way, if he had simply pushed her away. He questioned whether or not he regretted it.

He didn't regret it at all.

"_Rach, what's wrong?" Sam questioned while looking around the extravagant apartment. He always felt completely out of place at her and Jesse's place. "Why are you so upset? Did you and Jesse have a fight?" Upon mentioning Jesse's name, Rachel began to wail._

"_Sam, I don't know how it happened or when," she exclaimed in between broken sobs. Sam instantly wrapped his arms around her and let the pint-size girl cry into his chest._

"_Shh," he cooed before pulling away long enough to wipe the tears away from her cheeks. "What's wrong?"_

"_You and Santana," she shouted. He pulled away in confusion, unsure of what happened. He had thought the brunette and the Latina had gotten along just fine._

"_If you don't like Santana then I can break up with her, I guess," he shrugged his shoulders. It wasn't like things were serious with the girl; they liked to go out and drink together. It was more like a weird friendship than a relationship._

"_That's not it," Rachel shouted. "You're always with her. At first I didn't know why it upset me so that you were never around me anymore. I was constantly complaining to Jesse about how much you not being around made me mad. Then I started complaining about Santana! A girl I hardly know, Sam!" Sam nodded, unsure of what was happening. "Jesse joked around talking about how it sounded like I was jealous."_

"_Rach, people can be jealous of people taking their friends away, you know." Rachel shook her head._

"_That's not the kind of jealous I am, Sam," she whispered, voice taking on a husky quality. He rubbed his sweaty palms over the denim of his jeans and swallowed thickly. Instantly the brunette was invading his personal space and greedily smothered his lips with hers._

_Not once did he push her away._

A simple kiss had turned into a yearlong affair.

It had been the greatest and worst year of his life, a roller coaster ride that often made him sick but was too much fun to get off.

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><p>Three more hours had passed with the two of them simply enjoying each other's company. Sam had brought his old guitar out and attempted to serenade the girl while Rachel internally swooned at the way the guy treated her. They watched a movie and cuddled underneath a blanket for the duration of the film like high school kids on a date.<p>

Rachel's phone rang at 5:15. He knew who was calling her. He knew it before the color from Rachel's face drained. "Hello," Rachel calmly answered. "You won't be home tonight?" She asked in disbelief. Sam rolled his eyes at the brunette's dramatics. "No, I don't want to go with you to Atlantic City. Whatever, bye."

"Ah, I didn't know that hardworking Broadway actor's rehearsed in Atlantic City," Sam joked, hoping to ease the mood.

"They don't," Rachel grumbled. "Since he won't be home though," she purred," and you still aren't wearing clothes I propose that we do something about this." Sam gulped before looking at his watch.

"Bad idea, Rach. Santana is going to be over here in like…less than an hour." The brunette's hand was playing with the elastic of his boxers. "Rach," he whined before swatting her hand away, "we can have a date after I hang out with Santana."

"I can't believe you're choosing to hang out with an ex-girlfriend over your current girlfriend," Rachel snapped before pulling her hand away. "Maybe you two can take care of this current situation," she shouted while gesturing to his lower anatomy. Sam groaned before throwing his head back in frustration.

"You know she's into chicks, not dicks." Rachel rolled her eyes before getting up. She pecked his lips before admiring the chiseled abs on his body.

"You just remember that. Then you and this," she squeezed the aforementioned body part," came come to my place for the night." Sam shivered lightly as he watched the brunette sashay to his door. In a flash he was off the couch and running over to Rachel. He pinned her to the door and kissed her soundly. He had, over the course of a year, completely memorized every detail about her body-starting with her soft lips. He pulled away and languidly nipped and bit at the line of her jaw and neck before returning to swollen lips. Slowly, he ran his tongue over her bottom lip. The brunette immediately granted him access.

He felt his body temperature rising as their tongues met, languidly at first before turning into a much more heated dance. He let go of Rachel's wrist to rest his hands on her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged at his hair. He pressed his body into hers and ignored the whimper that escaped from her lips upon feeling the reaction his body had because of her. She pulled away and began to trail her lips down his neck while scratching his abs lightly. "Oh God, no," he moaned before letting the girl continue. "We have to stop. Santana can't show up to find me taking care of myself in the bathroom because of you."

"And you thought you weren't a pervert how?" Rachel questioned in between pants. Sam laughed before pressing a lingering kiss to pouty lips.

"I'll see you later, Rach." She nodded before shuffling out the door. He looked at his watch and then down at his below the waistline problem. "Cold shower," he stated aloud before running to the bathroom.

Ten minutes later he was out and changed into a fresh t-shirt and a pair of jeans, ready for a night out. He headed over to the door after hearing the knock. "Ready to go?" He asked upon seeing the Latina.

"Nice hickies," Santana deadpanned. His smile fell as his hand instantly went to the base of his neck. Apparently Rachel had decided on payback. "Who've you been sexing?" Sam sighed before pulling the girl inside.

He had kept the affair with Rachel secret from everyone and it had been killing him. He kind of thought telling someone could help him feel better about things. And Santana was his best friend, right?

He nodded to himself; he was going to tell her.

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><p>Next chapter: Santana is going to give Sam her advice on the situation. Which, when is Santana advice ever a good thing? Haha.<p>

Review! They motivate me to write faster.


	3. Chapter 3

I decided to divide this chapter in half so I could post this part now since I apparently suck at posting while school is in session. I promise to try and post again before next weekend though. I guess it depends on school. :/

I love how many of you guys are quick to blame Rachel for everything. I think it's interesting seeing what everyone thinks. Is there anything in particular you want to see happen? I could work it in if it's not something random like Jesse being eaten by a shark or something. :P

Thank you all so much for your reviews and kind words. Enjoy!

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><p>As though seeing the bruises on his neck were a metaphorical slap to the face things quickly began to fall into place. Sam was always bailing on their plans. He would call and just cancel their lesbro nights without her permission! He never was able to give good reasons, just that he needed to be somewhere else. He seemed nervous and uneasy when questioned about it later. When they were together she would often find him stealing glances at his phone with a longing expression-as though he wished someone were texting him. Not just any someone apparently, he had a girl…or maybe a booty-call. Santana wasn't sure yet.<p>

She continued to look him over. He was always more than okay with being single. He insisted that girls weren't something he was interested in at the moment. She thought it meant he was gay for the longest time. Maybe he still was? Maybe he was fooling around with a guy on the side. She snorted-there was no way that was the answer to the mystery she was trying to unveil.

"Okay," she stated before pushing him into the small chair by the island. "I needs to know who you been macking on." Sam turned an unflattering shade of red. Santana growled; she couldn't understand how someone with no game like Sam was walking around as a human hickie. "Who is it? Do I even know her?" Sam's face turned even redder. "Er, or him?"

"What?" Sam shrieked. "God, no, Santana. How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not gay?" Santana shrugged her shoulders and rapped her nails lightly on the bar.

"We gots to get going so tell me the dirty details now." Sam inhaled deeply. For the first time she noticed the actual sadness in his eyes. He looked kind of defeated. She wondered if he had been broken for a while. Had she been a bitchy friend who never noticed his pain? 'Cause she was a bitch, yeah, but she did have a heart-sometimes. "Sam," she sighed, "what's going on?"

"I've been seeing the same girl for about a year." Santana smiled. Commitment from Sam was a rarity. Maybe he was finally growing up. She hoped not though otherwise she would have to go get wasted alone-and who likes to drink by themselves? Whoever the girl was must have been some sort of catch. Maybe she could steal her away from Sam. No, probably not. "She, uh, she's really special to me."

"Okay, get on with the Hallmark stuff." Sam groaned at the abrasive tone Santana's voice already held.

"I've been in love with her for-like-ever," he added. Santana's brows furrowed in thought. Before they had started their awkward attempt at dating (and before she realized the ladies were something she much rather preferred) Sam had told her all about the one girl he had truly fallen for. It couldn't be the same person though, right? Because that girl was totally married.

"Please don't tell me it's your pet mouse," she pleaded.

"Don't call her that, Santana," Sam snapped. And that's when she knew. It all made sense. He would be sneaking off with Rachel. He was doing the dirty with the midget-and not just any midget but the married one.

"Sam, how the hell did you let that happen?" She shouted before throwing a few phrases out in Spanish. He looked confused. She decided it was for the best that she didn't translate her ramblings. "She's married for Christ sake!"

"You don't think I know that?" He shouted while jumping out of his chair. His face was red again, this time out of anger rather than embarrassment. His eyes were beginning to water. She hoped he wasn't about to cry. "I know she's married. I know what we're doing is bad and wrong, but I love her." Santana chuckled dryly.

"She doesn't love you," Santana replied. It was a lie, she knew that much. She had always seen the way that Rachel looked at Sam-even back when she was the one dating Sam. She looked at him the way a woman looked at her husband, which was kind of weird since she had a husband that wasn't Sam Evans. But she needed her friend to move on and move on fast before he ended up drowning in his own vomit after a night of heavy drinking caused by his dysfunctional relationship.

* * *

><p>It was a slap to the face and a stab to the heart hearing what Santana was saying to him. "You're wrong," he replied, index finger pointing at her accusingly. "You don't know anything about us." Santana rolled her eyes.<p>

"Ay Dios mio," Santana growled before slamming her palms down against the table. "If she loved you then why is she not with you? I could be mistaken, maybe, but I'm pretty sure her name is Rachel St. James. Wait, I also think I was at her wedding. Oh, wait, I think you were there, too!" He blinked a few times processing everything that the Latina was telling him.

It wasn't anything he had never thought before but hearing it from someone else made the gears in his mind begin to turn again.

"I love her though," he whispered. Santana bit her lip before walking over to the boy. "You're telling me that if Brittany came back and was-"

The rest of his sentence was muffled by the resounding slap of her palm meeting his cheek. He began to rub the stinging skin gingerly before looking away sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Santana. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, I didn't mean to…I just… I'm sorry, too," she replied before bowing her head. The angry looking red mark on his face was no doubt going to disappear anytime soon. "Sam, if you love someone then you do anything within your power to keep them from hurting." He looked at her and waited for her to continue. "If Rachel loved you then she would want you to be happy, and this?" She gestured around him. "This isn't you being happy."

"I am happy though. She makes me happy," he explained, pleading with her to understand. Santana tugged at his wrist and pulled him to the front door.

"This isn't happy, Sam. This is exactly where I was with Britts when she was engaged to _him._" Sam nodded. He had known that Santana and whoever Brittany was had shared some kind of weird past. He had also known that said girl was engaged and seeing Santana on the side.

Why had Sam never thought to really talk to Santana about things?

"If you think that Rachel really does want to be with you someday then that's great, sure, but today isn't someday. We need to find you a girl that isn't ashamed to show commitment to you now." Sam nodded, knowing that if he objected he might get slapped again or something. "Good, now we is going to gets our drinks on. I've got a friend meeting us there."

"A friend?" Sam questioned.

"For you." He groaned. "Hell Sam, maybe she'll make Berry jealous." Sam flinched. "I mean St. James," Santana added with distaste.

As he followed her out of the apartment and onto the streets of New York he realized that in some twisted way Santana had a point. He kind of expected the rain to fall out of the sky again or something upon coming to his revelation. Rachel had no intentions of leaving Jesse, and it was time that he got over it.

Sam Evans was going to start living his own life-a life where he wasn't tied down to Rachel St. James. Or, well, he told himself he would anyway.

Once they were seated in the taxi he let his mind begin to wander. Could he really attempt to date someone that wasn't Rachel? He didn't feel like he could cheat on Rachel. He loved her too much to share himself with someone else.

Upon coming to that conclusion he realized that Rachel really couldn't care about him. She had to go home to Jesse every night. They probably kissed. He didn't want to think about whether or not they did more than that. If she really loved him, Sam Evans, then she wouldn't be able to be intimate with Jesse, right?

"Santana," Sam whispered, ignoring the tears he knew were going to fall.

"Yes?" The Latina answered without looking away from the window. He assumed it was to avoid any awkwardness.

"I'm not feeling up to this tonight." He heard the girl sigh but knew she was going to cave. "I'll call you so we can reschedule." She looked at him and nodded. "But when I call, make sure your friend can come, too." Santana smiled, though it wasn't out of happiness.

"Okay. If she hasn't already fallen for me, anyway." Sam tilted his head back in laughter before instructing the cab to pull over. Santana assured him that she had the cost covered, but it didn't stop him from handing her twenty.

* * *

><p>His hands were tucked into his blue jeans as he waited for the door to open. He didn't know how long he had been standing there, but he knew he had to see her. His face lit up upon seeing hers as the door swung open. "Sam, you're back early."<p>

"I couldn't go. She had a date set up for me, and I just needed to be here with you," he mumbled before pushing his way inside and shutting the door behind him. "I need to be with you, Rachel," he smothered any other possible retort with his lips. "Just one last time," he mumbled to himself after pulling away.

"This weekend," she mumbled in between kisses. "Jesse called and said he wouldn't be back until Monday." He pulled back again and looked at the girl before him. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail and she was wearing an over-sized shirt with sweatpants.

"You look beautiful," he whispered before re-claiming her lips with his. Anytime they spent together he wanted to be physically connected to her-whether it was a simple handhold or a lingering kiss. She pulled away long enough to send him her signature smile. "Let's run away this weekend then, just you and me. We can hide from the world." He knew he was going to end up getting his hopes up, but when it came to Rachel he was willing to risk it all. "We could just be Sam and Rachel," he added.

"Okay," she whispered before wrapping her arms around his neck and running her fingers through his hair. He melted with the action. "Okay, let's do it," she squealed with girlish glee before jumping into him, successfully wrapping her legs around his waist.

"I love you, Rachel. Only you, okay?" He asked. The brunette nodded into his neck before pressing a kiss there. He looked around the room before dread filled him. "But I can't do anything with you tonight."

"What?" Rachel asked while pulling away slightly. She admired the way he was effortlessly holding her up for a moment before returning her full attention to him. "I was looking forward to it," she finished with a pout. He chuckled before making a show of dropping her. At the last minute he pulled her back up and kissed her lightly. He knew if he started any kind of make-out session he would want to take things further, but he couldn't. He had gotten to the point where he would take Rachel any place he could have her: hotels, in the break room at his work, her dressing room (on days they were feeling particularly daring), but he refused to make love to the woman he loved in Jesse St. James' bed… the same bed the jackass shared with said woman.

"I want to. I really, really want to," he whimpered. "I'm a guy," he added, earning a glare from Rachel. "But I can't. Not here. Not when God knows what you and Jesse do within those same sheets." The brunette detached her legs from his waist and slid to the ground.

"Sam, he and I-we don't…not for a long time." Sam only nodded. Internally he was pleased to hear that the only person getting any favors of the sexual kind from Rachel was him. "But I didn't even think about how awkward this would be. Let's go to your place. We never get to hang out there."

"We were just there earlier," he stated in confusion before a thought struck him. "You know, Jesse knows that we're friends. I've been around like, forever." Rachel nodded. "So, if we were spotted eating together somewhere and pictures were taken then Jesse would know that it was just platonic, right?"

"I assume so…" The brunette arched an eyebrow. "What are you getting at?"

"Rachel Berry," he ignored the way her eyes lit up at the prospect of being called by her maiden name, "would you accompany to dinner and perhaps a movie? I would like to take you out on a very casual date."

"Well," Rachel replied with a grin, "I would love to."

* * *

><p>Dinner had been alright. He couldn't take her to anywhere classy because it might look bad to the public eye. Instead they went to a pizza place that was more like a hole in the wall. The food had been nice, but what really sold Sam on the place was the lack of customers.<p>

It was the first time he got to hold Rachel's hand in an actual restaurant. It had been pretty bittersweet. He had gotten to experience what it could be like to be Rachel's boyfriend out in public-not hidden behind her failing marriage. As they walked to the nearest theater he pondered what movie to go see. He hadn't been keeping up to date with what movies were hit and what were flops. "What do you want to see?" He questioned while pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. He fought the urge to wrap his arm around the small girl's waist and instead just walked a few feet away from her.

"Pick the movie that sounds the worst," was all that Rachel said. He scratched his gruff chin lightly.

"What? Why would I pay to see a bad movie?" Sam asked once the couple in front of him had moved on.

"Because," Rachel replied before looking around. "I don't intend on watching any of the movie," she finished before skipping ahead, leaving behind a befuddled Sam.

Once inside he knew things were going to be problematic. His mind was at war with his body. He knew that he was milking their last two days together for what they were worth. His heart was aching with each passing minute, knowing that it was one minute closer to him saying goodbye for good. He was falling apart while Rachel was running her hand up and down his thigh teasingly. He didn't his body to react to her touch, but when did his body not react to Rachel? Never, that's when. He gasped loudly when she began to play with the button of his jeans. "Rachel, stop," he whispered harshly, hoping the girl would actually listen. Instead she slid her hand down the front of his jeans and began to rub small circles over the crotch of his boxers. "Stop," he growled before grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand back out of his pants. "This is a bad idea. I can't do this," he whispered before excusing himself and running out of the darkened theater.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket in a flash and began frantically texting. He looked around the lobby for somewhere to go. He knew Rachel would follow him out; he just wasn't ready to face her. His phone vibrated in his hand.

**Me: **Bn alone will help me rite?  
>9:22<br>**Lopezzz: **In the long run. U cant move on til shes gone, sam.  
>9:25<p>

He sighed. One weekend. He was giving himself one last weekend with the girl he had dreamed of forever with, the girl he had written countless songs about. He was giving himself two days of bliss with the girl he intended on spending forever with before he cut forever short.

"Sam," a voice panted behind him, "what happened? What's wrong?" He sighed, forced himself to smile, and turned around to look into worried brown orbs. He could see the emotion she felt shinning through them. He felt like breaking down in the middle of the theater. In the end it didn't matter that he promised her the world. It didn't matter that he intended on keeping that promise because she couldn't be his. How he could promise her anything when she would always belong to someone else? She would never be Sam's.

"Just for this weekend you are," he whispered to himself, ignoring the worried look she gave him. "I'm fine, Rachel. I just have a lot on my mind. I think maybe you should go home. I would take you, but I'm trying to follow the rules you gave me." He tore his eyes away from hers, forcing himself to look at the tattered shoes he was wearing.

"You're not telling me something," Rachel whispered before looking around the lobby. It was empty. Most people were in their respective movie screens waiting for something thrilling to happen. He was outside though, living his own messed up life worthy of a movie. "Sam, what's wrong?" She whispered before reaching out to hold his hand.

"Rachel, stop, we're in public," he snapped, remembering all of the times he had accidentally slipped and tried to reach for her hand or press a kiss to her forehead. He had perfected all of the moves for her. "Let's just meet up tomorrow? Do you have any idea where we're going?"

"My dads' vacation house. It's about five hours away," Rachel whispered sadly. Sam nodded before reaching for his buzzing phone again.

**Me: **One more weekend with her? Cn I have that?  
>9:28<br>**Lopezzz: **B careful.  
>9:34<p>

He looked back up at Rachel. "I'm looking forward to it, Rach." She pulled her phone out and tapped something out. He kind of felt offended that she was texting someone while he was there, but he was just doing the same thing. Sam looked back down at his own phone in confusion when it vibrated. Again.

**Rach: **I love you. Please stay with me?  
>9:35<p>

He made a chocking sound. Had she already figured out his plans? "What are you talking about?" He whispered.

"Tonight," she replied. "Hotel?" He sighed but reluctantly nodded.

**Rach: **Same place, same room. Come by around 10:30. I love you, baby. :D  
>9:37<p>

With that Rachel walked away. To the rest of the world it looked like friends calling it a night. To him it looked like a girl ripping his heart away, for it to never be returned.

* * *

><p>He wondered if the clerks at the hotel ever suspected anything. More often than not it was always the same young woman handing him the keycard. It had to look suspicious. He didn't care anymore, not when things with the brunette were going to be ending sooner than later.<p>

The door to their room unlocked as soon as he swiped his keycard through; he eased himself inside, carrying one suitcase in before looking around the room. Rachel was underneath the covers, snoring lightly.

He felt happy and content just getting to watch her. He locked the door behind him before unbuttoning his pants and sliding them off. He kicked them away before pulling his t-shirt off and throwing it in the same direction as the pants.

With a yawn he slid beneath the covers and turned the lamp beside him off. Almost instantly Rachel rolled over and curled herself into his body. Even in her dreams she found him.

He just wondered why she couldn't do it while she was awake. He tightened his grip on her before dropping a small kiss to the brown tresses. "I love you," he whispered into the darkness. "I wish I could keep you."


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry it keeps taking me forever to update. :(

Hope this is alright.

Leave some reviews? I like them. Ha.

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

><p>She watched him out of the corner of her eye. She could tell that he was on edge about something.<p>

Waking up at five in the morning hadn't been exactly pleasant for them both, but she knew if she was going to escape with Sam without being caught it had to be done early. He had offered to drive, despite not knowing how to get to the cabin. She let him drive anyway and decided that being the navigator would be fun.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

She would try to talk to him only to have him shush her. She would run her fingers over his thigh only to have him throw her hand across the center console and into her own lap. Something was wrong with Sam, and she just didn't know what. He began to hum along to some song playing on the radio. His voice was sweet, full of emotion.

She had remembered it being one of the very things that attracted her to him. She heard his little band play in a bar and it was as though she found her musical soul mate. The words that fell from his singing lips were words that made her feel rushes of joy.

"I miss hearing you sing," she whispered while chancing a glance in his direction. He made a weird grunting noise but attempted to say nothing else. "Why did you stop? I remember that song you wrote me last year. It was so sweet," she added with a chuckle. That was the trick; Sam tilted his head back and laughed. It wasn't a fake laugh like he had been using lately, but a true, genuine Sam Evans laugh.

"Oh yeah," he said in between chuckles, "That was bound to be a number one hit, a song that talked about plungers and a sex life all in the same chorus." Rachel huffed. "It isn't your fault that your horrible toilet skills were inspiration for the song. I still can't believe you flooded your apartment." She felt her face redden with embarrassment but enjoyed Sam's livelier mood.

"Whatever," she pouted before punching his shoulder lightly. "Okay, you're going to take the next exit," she added upon realizing they were further along than she had originally thought.

"Gotcha, Captain." She giggled at his playfulness before changing the radio station. "No, Rachel, not the Wicked station again!"

* * *

><p>He had started the morning off all wrong. He awoke to Rachel Berry's signature ranting and raving to a coffee pot of all things. It had died apparently, leaving Rachel to a morning without her cup of coffee. Sam had made the mistake years back of being around Rachel when she missed her coffee-and it was bad. He vowed to never again be around the beast before it had been given its daily dose of medicine.<p>

He told her he would simply run to the front desk and ask for some assistance. That earned him an especially loud yelling in what sounded to be a foreign language. He didn't know. He didn't want to know. He just nodded along while she yelled.

After that he just decided ignorance and being tight lipped was bliss. He refused to say anything to her other than to offer to drive. He didn't want his lady to endure the strains of driving for hours after all!

She had attempted on various occasions to make small talk, but he wasn't going to budge. He was a man on a mission: a mission to ignore Rachel and in the process keep himself from being yelled at.

Then she had to go and look all hurt and upset that he was ignoring her advances. He decided to bite the bullet and talk anyway after she brought up _the plunger/I love you, Rachel_ song.

It was two hours into the drive though and he knew he was about to get yelled at. "Rach, if you need to use the bathroom then just let me pull over somewhere." He gripped the steering wheel and braced himself to the wrath of Rachel.

"Sam," Rachel gasped, "you know we can't do that. Someone might see!" He growled before reaching behind him into the backseat. He listened to Rachel shout about how dangerous his actions were, and how she would sue him if he were to wreck and cause damage to her vocal cords.

"Here then," he shouted once he found what he was looking for. "Pee in this," he grinned while handing her a cup he had left in the back.

"I don't have a thing," she shrieked. "I can't just pee in a cup." He bit his lip to keep from laughing but it was to no avail.

"A_ thing_? Is what it's called these days? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I've heard you refer to mine as-"

"Never mind," Rachel shouted, interrupting him-and only causing him to laugh harder. "Let's stop at a gas station!"

* * *

><p>He grunted while grabbing her bags and briefly wondered what she could have possibly brought that weight <em>that <em>much. He decided not to question her about it because she was Rachel Berry after all-and that girl never packed lightly. He looked at his own small duffel bag and snorted before following Rachel into the cabin.

She had been right. He wasn't entirely sure where they were, but it was beautiful. The cabin was surrounded by miles and miles of lake. It was almost as though they were stranded alone together on an island. "This will be our home for the next two days," Rachel informed before pushing the door open. "We'll need to go buy groceries, but other than that I'm certain everything is in good condition."

"Rach, I'm dying here," he grunted before dropping all of the bags onto the floor. Where are you staying?" He questioned. Rachel began to walk away, presumably towards her bedroom. He quickly picked up her bags again and trailed after her.

"This is the master bedroom, where I will be staying." He nodded and dropped her bags onto the bed. It was big. His own apartment was probably the size of the room. He made his way over to the bathroom and gasped. There was a shower _and _a Jacuzzi!

"I'm totally gonna take a bath in that-I don't care how girly it is," he explained while looking at the large tub in awe.

"If you join me, maybe," Rachel whispered from behind him. He turned around and strutted over to her before wrapping her up in a hug. It was warm and comfortable, but more than that it still sent shockwaves through him. It made him feel alive.

"You can count on that," he whispered into her ear before bending down slightly to press a chaste kiss to her lips. "Where is my room then?" He joked before seeing the frown paint its way onto Rachel's face.

"I assumed you would want to stay with me, but I suppose you can take one of the other rooms," she trailed off.

"Relax, Rach, of course I want to stay with you," he scooped her up into his arms before carrying her back down the hall bridal style. He ignored the panging in his heart he felt upon realizing he probably would never get to carry Rachel that way after being married.

"Sam," she squealed, bringing him out of his thoughts, "put me down this instance!" He chuckled but continued walking before they reached the outside.

"I want to go for a walk," he said while pointing to the dock. Rachel smiled softly while being placed back down on solid ground. She nodded before gently intertwining their fingers together. He swung their arms back and forth to an imaginary beat. "It's very pretty here, Rachel," he whispered once they had set foot on the dock. The water beneath them, although a murky lake water color, still was beautiful amidst the setting.

"I know. I wanted to share this with you," she whispered, voice hoarse and full of emotion. He felt his chest constricting, almost as though there were no air around. "Jesse gets to have so many things. I'll never be able to say that you were my first boyfriend or husband, even. This place means so much to me though, and I wanted _you _to be the person that got to share this moment with me." He felt himself crumbling. Everything was spinning and the water looked like a better alternative than walking on the dock with Rachel.

"Rachel, this is like college algebra hard for me, okay?" Rachel bit her lip and waited for him to continue. He felt her trying to slip her hand out of his grasp. He quickly prevented that from happening. "I just want you to know that if someone told me I had to pick between my first edition Spiderman comic book and loving you-I would always pick you." She pulled his arm around her so that it rested on her shoulder.

"Sam Evans, you were always a charmer." He felt a smile tug at his lips. "Being alone like this-it's incredible, isn't it?" Sam pulled her into his body and placed a quick kiss to the top of her head.

"It's everything," he whispered.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day had been spent with Rachel out grocery shopping. He had offered, of course, to go with her, but the look she had given him had told him all he needed to know. "No Sam, you can't go-someone might see," seemed to be the most accurate wording. He then offered to go in her place which earned him the "you can't even shop for your own apartment" look.<p>

Instead he stayed at the Berry's lodge and looked around. He decided it wasn't snooping if the child of the owner's place was his pseudo girlfriend. He found pictures of Rachel with her dads. He had hung out with them plenty of times. They always claimed to love him.

He wondered what they would think if they knew he was the reason Rachel was having an affair on her husband. He pushed the thoughts aside and looked at pictures of Rachel from her childhood. They rested on the mantle of the fireplace like a trophy of sorts. He couldn't blame the Berry men though. If Rachel were truly his then he would have pictures of her all over his apartment.

The angry beating at the door let him know that Rachel had arrived. He jumped out of the recliner and rushed over to the front door to grab the bags in her arms. She looked completely pissed off. He wondered why. She did nothing but leave the rest of the bags in the car and run back to her bedroom. He wanted to go after her, but something told him it was a bad idea. Instead he carried his bags over to the kitchen and then went after the ones left in the car.

It was then that he saw it. It was one of those trashy tabloid magazines that he and Santana would always look at while in the check-out lane at a grocery store or gas station. He had never seen one that had a picture of Rachel and Jesse on the cover though. His eyes scanned the headline: **Trouble in Paradise?**

_Broadway power duo Rachel and Jesse St. James (pictured above) have always seemed to have the perfect relationship; however, insiders say that this isn't true. St. James, rumored to be sleeping with the leading lady of his current workshop has been spotted in different bars "completely wasted" and "hitting on anything that moves" as told to us by a close friend._

_Don't feel bad for his wife just yet, readers! Miss Rachel Berry, known for her roles in Wicked, Les Mis, and now Hair, is rumored to be having a little fun of her own. Insiders say that she has been cozying up with her high school sweetheart. _

Sam put the paper down in a rage. Had Jesse been cheating on Rachel? He knew that the majority of the time papers like those had nothing to base their claims on, but even Sam had noticed Jesse making himself scarce when it came to being around Rachel.

And had Rachel been cheating on Jesse with another guy, too? He didn't know who Rachel's high school sweetheart was, but he was bound and determined to find out.

He left the magazine back in the spot he found it and made his way inside. Ten minutes were spent putting groceries away before he trudged his way to the bedroom. "Rachel," he cooed after knocking on the door. When no sound was made he pushed the door open and found her face down on the bed. "You alright?"

"Yesh," she mumbled into the pillow. He laughed before making his way over to her. He crawled on the bed before straddling her back and pressing softly into her shoulders. He kneaded the tender flesh before running his hands lightly over her back.

"Talk to me," he whispered into her ear, all the while continuing his ministrations on her tense muscles. "I'm your boo," he sing-songed.

"That was God-awful, Sam," she laughed out while rolling over. He pulled away so that he was lying on his side. "Please refrain from yourself a boo." He chuckled, happy to have finally gotten a smile out of her.

"I will if you tell me what's wrong." Her demeanor changed instantly.

"I was at the store. You know how I feel about tabloids, but I grabbed a gossip magazine. I was on the cover, Sam. The world knows I'm an adulteress!" He pulled her into his chest and let her cry into the crook of his neck.

"No one ever believes those things, Rachel," he replied. "Who are you cheating with, did it say?" Rachel nodded.

"With the guy I dated in high school," she screeched. "It's absurd. I haven't talked to Finn since we graduated! I don't even know where he lives." He felt himself grow more at ease knowing that there wasn't _another _guy who had a part of Rachel.

"Well, see, they're probably just making stuff up," he explained before taking a chance and running his hands down her back, leaving it to rest on the curve of her butt. She snorted but made no other comment on his actions.

"They also think Jesse is cheating on me," she whispered. He pulled his hand away and instead pulled her face up to look him in the eyes. She hadn't been crying, he guessed that was a plus.

"Do you?" She bit her lip.

"I honestly don't know. I'd never given it any thought because all of my thoughts were consumed by you. He doesn't do anything to make me think otherwise, but the article was right about me." She sighed.

"Are you going to ask him about it?" Rachel shook her head, officially ending the conversation. "Alright, well, I'm going to leave you alone for a bit. Let you relax, alright?" Rachel nodded, upset that he was choosing to leave.

* * *

><p>"These papers have come out and they like says they've both been cheating on each other. Do you think it's true?" He waited a few seconds for a reply but was met with silence. "Santana?" He prompted.<p>

"Of course I think it's true. She's been giving it up to you all this time, hasn't she? She's cheating, yes, Sam," Santana snapped. He sighed. "As for Jesse, I don't know. I don't know the dude." Sam voiced his agreements.

"Any guy that could cheat on Rachel is an idiot though. She's like the most amazing girl in the world." Santana cleared her throat. "What?"

"The most amazing girl in the world that you promised to Santana Lopez you were leaving." He felt sick. He had only been alone with Rachel for a day and he had already forgotten about his plans to move on. He couldn't follow through, especially now that rumors of Jesse cheating were surfacing. "You have to go through with it now that these rumors are out." He looked around the room as though Santana had been there eavesdropping.

"What, why?" He questioned.

"Because if people think she is cheating then it means she is getting sloppy. Don't let them find out. Don't let them mess her name up like that, Sam. If you love her then you'll want her to be able to continue on Broadway and shit. If she gets a bad rep then no one is going to want to work with her." He sighed. Maybe Santana had a point.

He could leave Rachel and move on. Once he moved on the he could be happy with someone else. Rachel could return to Jesse and they could fix their marriage.

He owed it to Rachel to try-just for her happiness alone.

"I know. But you said I could have this weekend. I've got one day left with her. Let me have it, Santana," he pleaded before looking around again to make sure Rachel wasn't around. She sighed.

"I know. Have a good weekend, Sam," she whispered before hanging up.

He put the phone down on the counter and then rummaged through the groceries, set on cooking a meal for Rachel.

* * *

><p>"What is this?" Rachel's groggy voice questioned as he set a tray in front of her.<p>

"Well, I tried to make us something to eat, but I burned it. Vegan grilled cheese instead," he offered with a sheepish grin. "I guess I should have been studying cooking skills rather than comic books back in the day, huh?" Rachel pulled him in for a sloppy kiss, careful to not knock the tray over.

"You're wonderful, truly," she whispered before taking a bite of the sandwich. "This is by far the best grilled cheese I've ever had," Rachel exclaimed before taking another bite out of the sandwich. Sam smiled and continued to watch her eat.

It was the little things he was going to miss, he realized. He was going to miss teasing her about spilling her food everywhere. He was going to miss the chipmunk look her face took on while eating. He was going to miss holding her when scary parts of a movie came on. He was going to miss having someone that knew him completely and loved him unconditionally.

Twenty minutes later and a failed attempt of feeding each other found them both sitting in the tub he had been fantasizing about the duration of the day. He sighed in content when the brunette before him relaxed against his chest and inhaled deeply. He grabbed the sponge that Rachel had brought and put body wash on it before lathering it on the diva. "I'm going to miss this," she mumbled sleepily. His lazy strokes stopped.

"Me too," he whispered in an attempt at not crying. "I'm going to miss you," he mumbled into damp locks of hair.

"What?" Rachel whispered before turning her head to look at him. He forced himself to keep eye contact and to not look at the breasts he knew were in his line of sight. Rachel knew he was a pervert but it was time to keep hormones in check. "What did you say?"

"I said I'm going to miss it, too," he nervously stated, quick to fix his error. Rachel, in her sleepy state of mind, seemed to have bought his explanation. "Let's get you to bed, alright?" He whispered before pressing a wet kiss to the nape of her neck. He reached forward and began draining the tub before pulling Rachel up with him. He stepped outside and got a towel for the brunette before wrapping her in it and sending her on her way.

He then wrapped his own towel around his waist before making his way over to the mirror. He looked at his own reflection and sighed.

When he finally made his way out of the bathroom Rachel was already asleep. He knew he deserved boyfriend of the year for sleeping beside a naked Rachel Berry.

* * *

><p>He awoke with a jolt.<p>

And that was when he knew the hand of Rachel Berry was doing sinful things to him under the covers. "Rachel," he gasped, "what are you doing?" She smirked before pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"I was in a bad mood yesterday. We didn't do anything but cuddle, and while that isn't a problem I do intend on making love at least once on this trip." Sam shivered at the bluntness of the girl. "But now that you're awake," she whispered into his ear, "and able," she added with a firm pump of her hand, "I think we should get a move on.

He flipped them over effortlessly so that he was on top and looked down at the girl beneath him. It was probably going to be the last time he was ever going to be with Rachel intimately. The thought alone made him want to cry, but he soldiered on. Who was he to deny Rachel or himself a last session of lovemaking?

He placed gentle kisses to her eyelids and nose before finally settling on plump lips. She gasped giving him the invitation of allowing his tongue to find hers. It was a duet, really, the way their tongues moved together. He moaned and grunted when she pulled away slightly to gather a breath of air. "I love you, Rachel," he whispered before trailing kisses down her jaw and collarbone to the perky breasts he loved. He kneaded one breast while attacking the other with his mouth before he felt himself being pulled away by a hand gripping his hair. "I just need you," she whispered lustfully. He groaned before getting a firm grip on the girl's hips. He could give her himself-at least one last time. With a final kiss to swollen lips he eased himself inside the girl.

They had made love countless times. They had also had sex countless times, because yes, if you asked Sam Evans there was a difference. Still, every time they were together he couldn't help but feel as though it were the first. He could never get over the way she gripped him, as though they were made for each other completely.

He began to thrust slowly, enjoying the way Rachel would moan quietly and use her hands to grab his back, urging him on.

"I love you," she panted out in between his jerky movements. He dropped his head into the crook of her neck to keep himself from having to look into deep chocolate eyes. "I love you so much," she repeats while running her fingers through his blond hair.

He knew it wasn't going to take much more for him. He began to pay attention to the places she was most sensitive to speed along her own high. "I love you too," he grunts, and with a final thrust from they both reach the precipice and free fall into nothing but each other.

* * *

><p>"Don't rock the boat," she shouted while clutching the sides of the boat in a deathlike grip. "I don't want to die." He grinned cheekily before sitting down.<p>

"Don't you trust me?" He pouted. "I've never been in a row boat before, just canoes and stuff," he explained. "I'm doing all the work this way." Rachel grinned. "I don't think I like it," he added.

"Don't whine, Evans," Rachel snapped in return. Sam sighed before gripping the oars again and rowing them back to shore.

After his wake-up call Rachel had prepared a picnic meal for them. They had gotten a hold of an old rowboat and gone to another spot even further away from civilization than the cabin was. It had all been incredible and romantic even, but Sam knew it was just the unavoidable ending to an incredible weekend-an amazing love story that never got its happy ending.

"I got you a present," Rachel stated as the wind blew her hair into her face. Sam couldn't help but simply take in her beauty. Rachel Berry was the most radiant girl he knew. "At first I was going to get you something like a new guitar; we both know you need one." Sam nodded. "But then I thought, 'what would Sam Evans really want' and I had the answer." Sam continued rowing despite the burning in his arms. He had seen _The Notebook _enough to learn that rain came when you were in a boat-or something. He wasn't sure what that movie was about entirely. "Stop paddling," Rachel reprimanded.

"I think the term you're lookin' for is _rowing_, Rachel," he scolded in return. She huffed-he obliged.

"Here," she shouted before thrusting an envelope at him. He eyed it in confusion before opening the package.

"Rach, tell me you didn't," he exclaimed when peering inside. "You so did; you got me tickets to Comic-Con!" He knew that July was still a few weeks away, but he also knew that he wouldn't be with Rachel then. "Two tickets?" He arched an eyebrow.

"For you and Santana," she explained with a sigh. "Or you and whomever you wish to take." Sam nodded sadly before folding the envelope and handing it back to Rachel. "Just promise that you'll go. I know how much you want to."

"I promise," he croaked before continuing on their way to shore.

* * *

><p>He let Rachel drive back. He wanted to see her road-rage one last time.<p>

He sang along to every song on the radio so that she would hopefully memorize his voice. Sometimes she sang along with him. Those were the hardest to sing.

She pulled into their hotel parking lot after the long journey back and put the car in park before looking at Sam. He reached across the center console and ran his fingers over her lips before letting his own move against hers. It was bittersweet; the sweetest kiss he had ever had and the last kiss he was going to have from Rachel.

He was crying by the time he pulled away. Rachel opened her mouth to ask what was wrong. "I will always love you," he offered with a watery smile.

He was out of the car and running away in the dark night before Rachel had a chance to respond.


	5. Chapter 5

I guess I shouldn't make any promises about when updates will be. I clearly can't stick with anything. Anyway, I re-wrote this chapter like twice. In the end I realized I wasn't going to be happy with it regardless so I'm just posting what I got. :P

I'm curious after this chapter to know who you guys feel the most sorry for? Sam? Rachel? Let me know! :)

I don't own anything but the mistakes! Don't get me sued.

* * *

><p>It had been one week.<p>

One week since he had left Rachel parked in the parking lot of a local hotel.

One week since he had made love to the girl he envisioned marrying and growing old with.

One week since he had broken the heart of not only himself, but of the only girl he had ever loved.

It had been an entire week of hell.

He rolled over in his bed and looked at the side Rachel had slept on when they were still together. He was afraid to sleep on her side for fear that it would take her scent away. He looked at the alarm clock on the table and groaned. 4:03 blinked at him in angry red letters. His sleep had since gotten worse. He slept all day and stayed up all night.

He had an hour before he had to be at work. He had taken a week off. He guessed he was allowed to do that since his boss was his best friend, but even best friends had a limit before they could fire someone. He groaned before pulling himself out of bed and going to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and sighed.

He had never worn facial hair, but in that moment he looked like a grizzly bear. Had he been too depressed to even shave his own face? He looked at his hair, oily from lack of showers. He had also been too upset to take showers. Instead he spent all of his time lying in bed with nothing but thoughts of Rachel.

He relived all of their past encounters, all of their happy times. He thought about all of their times on secret dates, their make-out sessions in theatres during dark Mondays.

Then he would, more often than not, cry some before returning to a slumber where he would once again be haunted by Rachel.

He fought the urge to punch the reflection in his mirror. It was his fault that his entire life was crumbling apart, wasn't it? He had been the fool to fall in love with Rachel Berry back when they were still in their teens. He had been the fool who hadn't told the girl how he felt.

He had been the fool who let Jesse St. James swoop in and steal her away.

He peeled off his t-shirt and boxers before stepping into the shower and turning on the spray. He kept the water cold, praying that it would numb him entirely to the world around him and the emotions within him.

* * *

><p>"No, we are out of that," he mumbled while adjusting the thick framed glasses on his face. He thought maybe that by wearing his glasses it would hide his red-rimmed eyes-hide the fact that he had been bawling like a baby.<p>

"Sir, you didn't even look," the young man replied. Sam looked the guy over and realized that he couldn't have been more than sixteen. He kind of reminded him of a male-version of Rachel. "I would appreciate it if you did."

"I said we didn't have it. I work here; I think I would know, damn it," he shouted while slapping his palms against the counter he was seated behind. The young adult nodded quickly before running out of the store. Sam sighed in dejection before dropping his head to the counter-top. "I hate my life," he mumbled.

The store door opened again, much to Sam's chagrin. "Sammy, I've been texting you. I even came by once." He knew that voice. "Oh wow, I would think you were a lady if it weren't for the beard. Wanky."

"Santana," he warned before his phone began to vibrate again. It had been doing that nonstop for the past week. It was always Rachel. Multiple text messages every hour and a phone call every thirty minutes. Sometimes she had gone by his apartment. It had gotten to the point where he would just turn his phone off and quit getting out of bed to look out of his peep hole.

He didn't understand why she couldn't realize that things were over. He couldn't be with her-not when it was tearing him apart. A part of him had hoped that Rachel would be just as miserable without him. She would have to leave Jesse so that their love could truly _be. _He had been wrong.

He looked at his phone and saw her name flash up. Santana must have noticed because she quickly intercepted the phone and answered. "Listen and listen good," the Latina seethed. Sam instantly wanted to snatch his phone away and spare Rachel anything that Santana could possibly have to say. Of course, he wasn't involved with Rachel anymore. He couldn't save Rachel from anything.

That was what Jesse was for. "Santana, please stop," he pleaded. She looked up at him before turning around so that her back was facing him.

"I heard that in Africa people die like every four minutes, Berry. Excuse me, I meant St. James," Santana's sickeningly sweet voice whispered. He couldn't help but wonder what the hell she was talking about. Hearing Rachel's married name was a dagger in him. "I'm considering booking you a ticket," she sneered. "Leave Sam alone, okay? You had your fun. Go back to playing house with your husband." With that she hung up angrily.

"Santana," Sam snapped.

"You have to move on, Sam," the Latina shouted. "You can't do that with Yentl calling you every five minutes." As to prove her point the phone in Santana's hand began to vibrate again. "You answer it and tell her you're done, Sam." She held out the device for him.

He quickly jerked the phone out of her hand and pressed the ignore button. "You're right," he replied. "I just, I need to do this in person. Help me pack her things?" Santana nodded. "Come by my apartment after my shift."

"I kind of like this look on you," Santana tossed over her shoulder. "You could definitely be in some little band that complains about broken hearts and promises: all of that good shit."

"You flatter me," he called out to her before she left the building.

Once she had gone he looked through his phone and went to his pictures, scrolling through the various ones of him and Rachel. With a final breath he hovered over the delete all button for a second before tapping the screen and efficiently erasing any trace of Rachel from his phone.

He looked at the clock mounted on the wall. He couldn't understand why they stayed open until nine. No one came by after five. He used to always get the good shifts, make a lot of money. Since dating Rachel though he asked for all the late shifts so that he could spend more time with her.

Stupid was what it was. Now he was poor and getting notices from his landlord.

He walked over to one of the guitars in the corner of the room and picked it up. It had been a while since he had played the instrument. Rachel hadn't been lying when she had said she hadn't heard him sing in forever. He missed being all about the music. He guessed it was something he could get back now that he was living the single life.

He strummed the guitar and winced at the sound that came out. It was rough and didn't flow at all. It wasn't like someone could forget how to play the guitar though. He continued trying for a few minutes before it all came flowing back. His fingers weren't used to the beating but everything else sounded good to him.

Thirty minutes without stopping his various rifts and chord progression had him wanting food. He be begrudgingly set the guitar back on its stand and made his way to the break room long enough to get a bag of chips and a Coke. Unhealthy as it was it had been what he had lived off of that past week.

He took the Cool Ranch Doritos and his drink back to the main room and perched himself on the stool before popping the bag open and grabbing a chip. "I have missed thee," he spoke while looking at the chip. "And now I shall eateth you, nom nom," he tossed the chip back and chewed slowly before glancing at the wall clock again.

The door to the shop was brutally pushed open, much to his confusion. Immediately he felt the lone potato chip threatening to make its way back up. He tossed back some of the Coke to moisten his dry throat. "Hey, man," the blue eyed man greeted. It made him want to punch something.

"Jesse," Sam greeted. Truly God hated him. There was no other explanation for the way his life was turning out. "What can we do for you?" The curly haired guy looked around the room for a moment before waltzing over to Sam.

"You look rough, Sam." Sam sighed. "You alright?"

_No. _"Yeah. Just not really sleeping. Business is kind of bad too so I'm not getting enough hours. Gotta find a new way to pay the bills." He sincerely hoped that Jesse bought it. He was never an actor-that was all Rachel.

"You know that you could always ask us for help, dude. I know how much Rach cares about you. I wouldn't her to have to worry about you." Sam wanted to bash his head against the wall. He had never had a problem with Jesse, not a real one anyway. The guy was genuinely a nice person. He hadn't ever done anything to treat Rachel poorly.

It was a part of the reason he couldn't imagine the guy cheating as the tabloids had been claiming him too. Then again, they also claimed that Rachel had been…and that wasn't a lie. "Are you and Rachel all right?" Jesse asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.

"Um, yeah," Sam replied before taking another sip of his drink. "Why you asking?" Jesse's shoulders seemed to have hunched over as a broken expression crossed his face.

"She's been really out of it this past week. She's always, I don't know, she isn't here with me. I'll be trying to talk to her and she just spaces out." Sam chuckled awkwardly.

"That's just how Rachel is though, isn't it?"

"I don't know, Man. Is it? She may be physically checking out on me now, but emotionally? I don't think she's been there for a while." Sam watched in confusion as the guy he wanted to hate more than anything tried to keep himself together.

Sam had been the cause of that dude's pain. His selfish need to be with Rachel had totally broken up a marriage. "You weren't cheating on Rachel." Sam whispered, a statement more than a question.

"What?" Jesse's head jerked up. "Where did you hear that?" Sam pushed his glasses up on his nose and ignored the daggers being repeatedly stabbed into his heart.

"Rachel found it written in some paper last week. It said you were cheating with some girl from your play." Sam watched as Jesse begin to put the pieces together, albeit wrong pieces, but who was he to tell him otherwise?

"That's what wrong with her. She thinks I'm having an affair." Sam shrugged his shoulders. "You're an awesome guy, Sam. Thanks," Jesse replied before going towards the door.

"Dude, is there something you needed from here?" Jesse looked confused for a moment before laughter began to spill from his lips.

"Totally forgot. I was here about the piano that we still haven't gotten." Sam sighed.

"I've only reminded Rachel every day for the past month," the blond responded. Jesse grinned sheepishly.

"That's my Rachel for you though." Sam fought the urge to gag. Rachel should have been his. "You guys can just deliver it to the apartment tomorrow though, okay?" Sam nodded before pulling out a legal pad from under the counter and leaving instructions for the boss man.

"Will do, Jesse." Jesse made his way to the door before Sam had the urge to call out to him. "Hey," he shouted. Jesse turned around slowly. "Take care of Rachel, alright?" He nodded in confusion before waving awkwardly and leaving the store behind. "I hate my life," Sam grumbled.

* * *

><p>He unlocked the door to the apartment before pushing the door open lightly and easing inside. He shut the door behind him before hanging his keys up. He trudged to the bedroom and took off his shoes before heading back towards the kitchen.<p>

"Hey," he called out to the brunette working furiously over the stove. He watched in amusement as she shrieked before turning around to face him. "Cooking something good?" Rachel nodded weakly. He sighed as he ran his fingers through curly hair. The brunette had gotten pale and fragile looking over the week he had been away. It hadn't made any sense as to why she looked so broken. "Rach," he whispered as he noticed tears welling up in her eyes. She launched across the room and in an instant she was wrapped in his arms. "I know about the affair," he whispered.

"Jesse," she sobbed before pulling away from his embrace. "I don't know how to explain," she offered. His brows furrowed in confusion.

"You don't have to explain anything. You have to believe me when I say that the tabloids were lying. Laura, my co-star, she is married. Also, it's to a girl so you gotta believe me here," he offered with a grin and a squeeze to her shoulders. "I mean, I know I'm very attractive, but even I don't think I could get her to switch teams."

"I believe you," she managed to get out in between sobs and gulps of air. They fell to the floor in a pile of limbs as he rocked her back and forth. "How did you know I knew about the rumors?" She questioned, unsure of whether or not she was glad Jesse had been talking about _his _apparent affair.

"I saw Sam earlier." He couldn't ignore the way she stiffened in his arms. "Are you two alright? He looked really bad." Rachel said nothing but he could hear her trying to control her breathing. When it became obvious she wasn't going to say anything he continued pushing forward. "I told him that you were kind of spaced out. He told me that it was probably because you were worried about me cheating."

"Yeah," she replied weakly for the sake of saying something.

"I love you too much to ever think about doing that," he replied with a kiss to her forehead. He frowned in confusion when she only began to, once again, cry into his chest.

* * *

><p>"What the hell is this?" Santana shouted while holding a sweater by the tips of her fingers-as though she were going to catch a fatal disease from the shirt. Sam looked up before a small smile crept onto his face.<p>

"It was Rachel's good luck sweater," he replied. Santana snorted before throwing it into the box. "Wait, I want to keep that," he added.

"Uh no. Even if you two weren't over I wouldn't let you keep that disaster." Sam frowned before going through various pictures of him and Rachel. He didn't want to get rid of them, but he knew Santana would force him to.

He smiled as he looked at the one currently in his hand. They were in his apartment watching _Funny Girl_ for the one billionth time. Her hair was thrown up into messy pony-tail. He looked like he had a hangover, but they were together and _happy. _He pocketed the picture before Santana could see before flipping through the rest and handing them over. Santana looked content with their work before she shut the box and taped it shut. "I call this operation a success," she stated triumphantly. "Now, go drop these off at the Midget's house and we'll finish off the night right."

"I don't know about this Santana," he replied. "What if Jesse is still there?" Santana shrugged her shoulders.

"No es mi problema." He sighed before grabbing the box out of her arms and making his way out of the door.

The summer air hit him like a bitch slap in the face when he stepped outside. It was nearing one o'clock in the morning. He worried that Rachel would be asleep. Or even worse that Jesse would know what was going on.

On the plus side he had thirty minutes to prepare himself for what he was going to do.

Thirty minutes later he found himself looking up at their building without any idea of what he was going to say or do. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Rachel's number. "Hello," a groggy voice whispered. Instantly he melted. He hadn't heard that voice in a week. He wanted to plead with her to forgive him and tell her that he wanted to just run away together.

But number one, he was a dude. Number two, she was married to a guy that obviously cared about her.

"Rachel," he willed his voice not to waver. "Are you awake?" He felt like an idiot. She was obviously awake. He heard shuffling on the other line as though she were truly waking herself up.

"Yes. Oh God, where are you? I've been so worried about you." He felt a lump rise in his throat. He swallowed thickly.

"I'm standing, well like, right outside your building. Is Jesse there?" He waited for a few seconds.

"Yes," she replied. He knew he would be. A husband usually is. It still didn't stop his heart from hurting. "Come to the elevator," she added before hanging up.

He made his way inside the familiar building before finally walking over to the elevators. He watched as the floor numbers lit up lower and lower until finally the elevator dinged and the doors opened. He felt his breath get caught in his throat. She looked almost sickly. She had dark circles under her eyes and the t-shirt she was wearing swallowed her whole. "Baby," she whispered while reaching out to run her hands over his face, "you look so bad." As her eyes began to mist over he knew it was a bad idea.

"Rachel, stop," he pleaded before stepping inside the elevator. "I need you to start taking better care of yourself. What's happened to you?" She scoffed before giving him a once-over.

"What happened to you?" Her voice was soft and timid, almost scared-like.

"You did," he replied before setting the box down in a corner. "That's yours," he offered while pointing to the box. "All of the stuff you left over at my apartment is in it. I can't keep it anymore. It hurts way too much." Her breath hitched as though she honestly hadn't known their relationship was over.

"What?" She squeaked as tears began to fall down her cheeks. He fought the urge to wipe them away and to press reassuring kisses in the place. "Why? Don't you love me anymore?"

"Of course I love you," he shouted before realizing he was losing his temper. "But I can't be with you like this anymore. It hurts. It hurts way too much. And you," his voice broke and that was it. The dam had opened and the tears fell. "You have a husband, Rachel. And he loves you. I can't do this to you. I can't do this to him. I can't do this to me." She reached out to cup his jaw.

"But I've been calling you to tell you…" She was silenced by his lips, softly moving against hers. It was a goodbye kiss and they both knew it. "No, Sam, wait, this is important, after we came back from our trip,"

"Rachel, let me go," he pleaded, interrupting her once again. "I'm done. I can't do this anymore. Maybe we can be friends again later on down the road. But you need to fix your marriage, and I need to fix my life."

He reached out blindly to press the lobby button and watched as the brunette caved in on herself. "I love you, Rachel," he whispered before stepping out of the elevator and away from his past.

* * *

><p>"I'm meeting someone; I'll order when they get here." The older woman looked at him with a small smile before putting the pad of paper and pencil back in her apron and heading back to the counter to refill various customers' cups of coffee. He drummed his fingers over the surface of the table nervously before looking around the coffee shop.<p>

He ran his fingers through his hair, which had finally gotten the much deserved haircut after two months of putting it off. No longer did he have locks that even girls envied; he missed it, sure, but he told himself that short hair made him look more mature.

He looked at his wrist once more to check the time. His watch was mocking him, really. Fifteen minutes had come and gone; he was certain he had been stood up.

But then he heard a chime go off from where a customer had entered. His eyes flickered over to the front of the store and he knew that it was her. It kind of had to be anyway. He waved awkwardly when eyes met his. He stood up and waited for her to walk over. "Hello," he whispered. "I'm obviously Sam," he chuckled while waiting for the girl to say something-anything.

"Nice to meet you, Sam," she replied. Her voice was deep, with a slight nasally tone to it. Her hair was as blonde as his had been before he had gotten Santana to help him dye it with a box he had bought at the local grocery store.

They both sat down before she picked up a small menu. He guessed maybe going to a diner wasn't exactly the best idea of a first date, especially when it was a blind date at that, but Santana had set everything up. "Santana told me that you worked at a magazine or something?" He asked, smiling when the girl's face lit up.

"I do. My last article was about an off-Broadway play that kept getting turned in for animal cruelty." Sam stroked his chin.

"Legally Blonde?" He guessed. He immediately knew he was completely off when he saw the girl in front of him tilt her head back in laughter. "Oh wait, that isn't on anymore. Rachel told me that a few years ago." He sobered up.

"Santana mentioned a Rachel to me." Sam sighed. He had done so well up until that moment. Really though, how was someone supposed to bring up a play or musical without him automatically thinking about the girl who had once upon a time been his one and only?

"I was in love with her," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "Have you never been so in love with someone that you knew there would be no possible way to move on if things fell apart?" He watched as a sad expression crossed the blonde's face.

"I have." Silence except for the chattering of the other customers was presented to them. "But I was wrong. I moved on," she flashed him a smile. He easily grinned back before waving over Karen, the older lady who had tried to serve him food countless times before his date had arrived.

"What can I get you two?" The gray-haired woman questioned with a grin. "Oh, you two make a mighty cute couple. Reminds me of my grandson and his girlfriend." Sam chuckled nervously.

"Thank you," was whispered from the girl in front of him. "I'll have the scrambled eggs and two pieces of bacon."

"And you, Sir?" The waitress asked while looking at Sam.

"The same thing. Two coffees," he added with a kind smile. Once Karen had walked away he returned his full attention to his date. "I've been single for a few months now. It was hard," he cleared his throat, "really hard at first. I think I'm okay now though," he added.

Really hard had been an understatement. It had been three months since he had seen Rachel. His phone number had been changed because the brunette had continued to text him. Several times she had showed up at his apartment demanding to be let inside because she had to talk to him. He refused to even answer the door. It wasn't that he quit loving her. God, he didn't know if it was possible at the time to not love her.

No, he just wanted to be selfish for a change. He wanted to live his life and not have to worry about being constantly depressed or upset over his love life. Being with Rachel was an emotional roller-coaster that even he couldn't handle anymore.

The brunette had undoubtedly been upset. A small part of him had hoped that she would have gotten a divorce immediately from Jesse after seeing that Sam was really gone. It hadn't happened-and so he had been forced to move on.

"I'm glad. Santana told me she had a guy in mind for me a few months ago. I thought she had been lying. Well, up until now anyway." Sam nodded.

"I was kind of messed up for a while. I'm all good now though." She nodded before pushing a piece of stray hair behind her ears.

"I'm glad," she replied with a slight blush. He smiled before leaning back in his seat and stretching. "You're easy on the eyes," she clarified.

"You're not so bad yourself, Quinn."


End file.
